


When Will Our Tomorrow Arrive?

by luxettenebrae



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Arguing, Dark Thoughts, Despair, Drama, F/M, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gangsters, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Loss, M/M, Multi, Pain, Reflection, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, chapter 16 spoilers, not yet at least but hopefully in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxettenebrae/pseuds/luxettenebrae
Summary: A Human World AU where the brothers and Diavolo + company are gangsters, and MC is a civilian that's dragged into a program where they're forced to live in the brothers' house with them for a year.No MC appearance in the first two chapters; instead, you see some family drama between Lucifer and Mammon.Lots of parallels to canon, so if you're not done with at least chapter 16, then don't read this.*Currently unfinished; not sure if there'll be more updates.*
Kudos: 8





	1. You Never Listen

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I'll continue what I have so far, but I thought I'd publish it and see if there's any interest in it.   
> This is pretty much all I have so far (aside from a scene that doesn't fit in the timeline yet).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon walks out on Lucifer, and Lucifer is left to contemplate the state of his family affairs.  
> Hasn't he always tried to be a good older brother? What is he doing wrong? What can he do?  
> And, when it's like this, how can he believe in tomorrow? Even so, he must.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's perspective on his family. He's been trying his best, but perhaps it's not enough.

“You’re not listening to me! You-” Mammon gritted his teeth and turned, stomping toward the door. “Forget it. You never listen to me. Why’d I think today would be any different?” 

He flew out the door and slammed it behind him, the door bouncing back open from the force of the impact against the wooden frame. There was only silence after he left for a few moments. It was uncomfortable, thick tension, and no one wanted to break it. 

“Everyone, get back to your business.” 

Lucifer’s voice cut through the heavy fog of silence, and the brothers scuttled away and to their rooms. The sound of doors clacking shut echoed through the house, and the only one left standing there, the eldest, pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. He was always getting headaches when it came to his younger brothers, but especially with the oldest of them. When would Mammon grow up? It seemed that with each passing day, the likelihood of him doing so was getting farther and farther from sight. 

He walked back to the dining room, where he ran his fingers along the beat-up old wooden table, scratched and imperfect. It was the only item out of place in the room. The room was elegant, furnished with dark wood pieces, carved patterns spiraling on their surfaces, and each one was smooth, polished, perfect. Or, at least, as close to perfect as could be. The furniture consisted of a cabinet with glass panels to allow for viewing of the nicer silverware and decorations, along with many chairs along the long, old table. Eight chairs. Just one too many. It didn’t used to be this way. Absently, Lucifer wondered where he'd gone wrong. Hadn’t he done his best to always guide his brothers to the right direction, to follow the right person, and behave in the right ways? So then, why had it turned out this way? 

It’s not that Lucifer wasn’t proud of his brothers—no, it was quite the opposite; they were all accomplished individuals with their own strengths and power. Even with the rifts and arguments between them, he discerned their characters to be worthy of pride. 

Not minding the muffled noises that were making their way through the walls of the old house, noises of music, podcasts, shows, and games from his brothers, he went to the record player and put on the same record he always did. The noises from his brothers were noises he loved—after all, he loved his brothers—but there were noises he preferred in their stead, especially when his mind was clouded by murky thoughts.

The record started spinning, and Lucifer found himself entranced by the spinning and the lazy touch of the needle skimming upon the disc as Mozart started playing. Fantasie in D, K. 497. There were things that could only be expressed through these sounds, this music, things such as and beyond feelings, thoughts, actions. 

What did this piece of music express? 

He thought it probably reflected his pain. His pain, which was repressed and carefully kept under control. His self-doubt, which was masked with pride and crude grace. His struggle of being the eldest, of being who he was. 

There were times when he wondered how things would be different if he hadn’t been the eldest. A wry smile found its way to his lips. As much as he ragged on and nagged Mammon, perhaps if Mammon were the eldest, he would have turned out less the way he was now—irresponsible, an emotional wreck, hotheaded, and so much more. It wasn’t that Mammon didn’t have his own strengths, just as every one of his brothers did. Lucifer knew Mammon was just as worthy. But somehow, his flaws made their way to the surface so much more often, in ways that were so much more disruptive, and they made him appear incompetent and selfish. Rather, Mammon still acted like a hormonal teenager when in reality, he was only a little younger than Lucifer, who was almost in his thirties. 

Lucifer shook himself out of his thoughts as he noticed the disc stop spinning. The song had finished before he’d realized it. He reverently put the disc back in its designated sleeve and closed the record player with care, the lid clicking shut. It was a relic of the time before. The time before things had become the way they were now. It had been a good time, that time before. He wondered if he and his brothers could ever return their relationships back to the way they’d been during that time. But then again, he’d asked that to himself time and time again, and over time, their interactions had only proved to him that change wasn’t possible. Not under the current circumstances. Perhaps, not ever. 

He was still going to hope, though. He couldn’t lose hope. Once it escaped from his grasp, it would be the end, and the end wasn’t here, not yet. 

With a sigh, Lucifer walked back to his own room, shutting the door with a quiet clack behind him. The way the brothers were all separated was just another reflection of the fracture in their family. But he would bide his time. He’d been patient this long. He could be patient a little longer. 


	2. Lilith's Older Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon escapes to the place his heart resides. He has to believe in tomorrow. A better tomorrow. But it's never easy to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get to see a little more of Mammon's perspective here. It's tough being Mammon.   
> This is the chapter where there are light suicidal ideation/thoughts and a lot of self-doubts, along with swearing.

Mammon marched onto the playground and kicked the green plastic turtle dome structure nearby; it was already scratched with the scuff marks of others over time. 

“Shit! Fuck this shit. Fuck it all. Fuck Lucifer!” 

It was past sunset, so there were luckily no children around to view his unsightliness, as Lucifer would’ve put it. The park was empty, in fact, which served his purposes just fine. He walked away from the turtle dome and plopped down on a swing, letting himself sway on the flexible plastic seat. It seemed wrong that the world was so peaceful right now, so serene. Moments ago, it had been swathed in warmth, with watercolor cream soda orange and watermelon pink smeared above in the boundless dusk ceiling. Now, the canvas of night sky was painted in a deep blue close to the darkness of black, but it was dotted with scattered lights from the softly sparkling stars, stars which swept across the sky in a haphazard pattern as if someone had taken a paintbrush dipped in a glowing yellow-white pigment and tapped it over the crisp air, leaving behind uneven and yet lovely splotches. It was quiet, too, being evening, and no one was passing by the road that had led him here. All there was buzzing in his ears was the infinite cacophony of voices, most of them belonging to his older brother, repeating themselves tirelessly, mercilessly. It was a pity they drowned out any possibility of silence or guise of true serenity; he knew the cicadas must’ve been singing, since it was still barely summer, and he knew by the touch of the breeze on his red cheeks that the wind must’ve been murmuring in hushed voices, but he could hear none of it. 

As Mammon sat on that swing, the seat too small for him and the rubber soles of his beaten-up, off-white tennis shoes scraping against the ground, he wondered how it had gotten so bad. How it’d become this way. 

They’d spent many happy times at this playground, from childhood and even into adulthood as they brought their younger siblings here one-by-one, from Leviathan all the way to Belphegor, and of course, Lilith. All of them had spoiled Lilith; she was the younger sister whom everyone adored and lavished their attention upon. And even with all that she was given, she never adopted the behavior of children who were never told no. Mammon didn’t know how she had managed to be such a good child, a good child who grew to be a good teenager, and then—didn’t grow to be a good adult, didn’t grow to be an adult at all. She was an angel. And now, she wasn’t even here. 

Sometimes, Mammon wondered if she had even existed, but he saw traces of her presence everywhere. She was in the bookshelf with the worn-out children’s books and the modern romance novels; she was in the kitchen with the recipes she’d created that the brothers would use now and then. She was here, in this playground, on the swings swinging beside him, and she was here, in his heart. 

When Mammon looked right to his side, he could almost see her sitting on that swing, cheerfully kicking her legs back and forth, swinging quickly as if she had sprouted a pair of white wings that propelled her into the air effortlessly. 

“ _ Look, Mammon! Look how high I can fly, _ ” she would laugh, a broad smile on her face. 

But her words, her laugh, her smile: they were all preserved only in his memory now. 

He reached to his right and wrapped his fingers around the chains of the other swing,  _ Lilith’s _ swing, the rough texture of the rusted metal links cool beneath his touch, and he let his hand trail down the chain. Lilith had once touched these chains. 

Mammon didn’t feel angry anymore. Now, all that was there inside him was sadness. Sorrow. Grief. The feelings went by many names, none of which did the true character of the emotion justice. 

He let his hand fall away from the chain and grasped the chain of his own swing once again. This was his spot, sitting on the swing beside his little sister, his youngest sibling. But where was his place, now that she was no longer here? Where should he go? Where  _ could _ he go? 

It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d ever thought about it; no, he’d thought about this so many times, too many times. He always returned to the same answer, but he continued to deny his calling to fulfill that answer. He wasn’t allowed to give up yet. He wasn’t allowed to stop hoping yet. Not yet. 

Mammon’s wandering thoughts returned to the happy memories they’d made as a family. They’d been so happy, and things had been going so well—what had gone wrong? Why had it become like this?

Mammon knew what had gone wrong. They’d been forced to their current reality after rebelling against what they’d been born to do, what their fate was supposed to be. And Lilith, she had—he couldn’t even think those words, that word, that horrible, horrible word. He knew it didn’t make the reality any less real, but somehow, every confirmation hurt more, or maybe less. He couldn’t even tell anymore, but if it was hurting less, he didn’t want it to because he shouldn’t be afforded that luxury. Not him. Not scum like him. 

Mammon asked himself. Was he greedy for wanting more than what the present was? Was he greedy for wanting to return to those times, before things had become like this? Then again, he didn’t completely want to return to those times. To return to that time meant to return to the chains of following his so-called duty, of following the calling to a religious level. It meant cold and empty kindness, forever lacking, forever unfulfilled. He just wanted the happiness, the love, and warmth that had once been in his family. Was that being greedy? 

He didn’t know. And perhaps he would never know because it was impossible to return to those times, regardless of what he wanted. What he did know was that whatever this was right now, whatever their relationship and this life was right now, he didn’t like it, and even that was an understatement. He hated it. He resented it. He wanted an escape, he wanted it so badly, and Lilith was waiting for him to take his place beside her—but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t abandon them. Not that anyone would care, anyway. But he wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt of abandoning them. He still cared, whether that was a fortunate thing or not. He’d like to think it was a good thing that he still cared, that someone really did care, but it was a difficult thing to think when every action and word directed to him screamed the opposite. That he didn’t matter. That he really was a low-life, scummy, good-for-nothing, and that he should long have gone with Lilith. 

That he should have gone instead of Lilith. 

It was a morbid thought, but even so, it was one he was accustomed to thinking. It littered his thoughts almost daily, whether it came to his attention or not, and he suspected he would never be free of it. Maybe it was true, anyway. Or it was definitely true. He didn’t know. He knew nothing at this point. But he did know that he wasn’t a good child as Lilith had been. He could never be the good child Lilith was. 

Numbness was spreading through him, both from the night chill and from the constant thoughts from finally, finally being left alone, away from Lucifer’s scoldings and everyone’s derisive remarks. He wished he could be angry or sad again. Because anything, anything was better than this emptiness. But it was no stranger to him; rather, it was a traveller who met with him often on his journey, and often when he hadn’t wanted to meet it at all. But it didn’t mind what he wanted. In that respect, it was similar to the rest of this world, including his brothers. No one cared what he wanted. He wondered if he should care about what he wanted. He was just a piece of trash, anyway. Wasn’t he?

That was what he’d been told, over and over, anyway. And he’d meant it when he said that Lucifer never listened to him. It was always Mammon who was listening, who should be listening to others, especially his older brother, who was perfect and composed, unlike someone like him. 

It made him want to tear his hair out. 

Mammon had feelings. He had thoughts. Mammon did things for reasons, and he wasn’t the cause of all the bad things going on. Mammon was a person, no less than anyone else. Even if Mammon was being made to believe otherwise on all of these statements. Wasn’t that right?

Mammon shook his head and slowly, reluctantly got up from the swing, dragging his feet as he walked away from the playground toward the road home and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dirty blue jeans. 

Mammon had to believe in himself. Because if he didn’t believe in himself, who would? 


	3. Welcome to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MC is introduced to Diavolo, Lucifer, and a few of the brothers. This closely parallels the first chapter of the canon.   
> MC has no idea what they've gotten themselves into, and they're not even sure how they got into this in the first place. But now that they're stuck in this situation, all they can do is hope things will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor MC's been thrust into hell again. They don't know it yet, but they're about to become a family therapist.

You stumbled in the door as you were given a push from behind, and the door subsequently shut behind you with a resounding, ominous clack. You turned and looked in panic, but it seemed firmly shut, and so you turned back to the occupants of the room you’d been forced into with apprehension. 

There were a few men in the room, each distinct in their own style of dress and bearing. The person sitting at the head of the table with their elbows propped up and hands clasped in front of them was the first to speak. 

“Ah, you’re here!” He offered a disarming smile. But, if anything, it only fueled your anxiety further. “Welcome to hell. I’m Diavolo, the...leader of this hell, you might say.” Upon seeing your face grow wary, he shook his head with another smile, bigger than the first. “Oh, I’m just joking! No worries. You’ll be perfectly safe here.” 

To his right, the man with a stern expression sighed and shot him a look. 

“I suppose ‘hell’ might not be too far from the truth, but I think it would be better not to scare off our new companion.” He gave you a polite smile, although it felt anything but warm. “Yes, welcome. You’re one of the first participants to the new program our organization has initiated.” 

You surveyed the room again. It looked rather like a meeting room in a corporate office—except you were sure that whatever organization these men were in, it wasn’t anything as mundane as a simple corporation, or anything of which its procedures and work could be reduced all happening in an office building. 

“So, where am I? What kind of program is this, anyway? And...why am I here?” 

Diavolo chuckled, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. 

“You have many questions, but I suppose that’s to be expected. Lucifer will explain the details for you, but in summary, we’re running a program that brings together the three elements of society: the ‘gangs,’ as you call it, the civilians—that’s you, by the way—and law enforcement. It’s our hope that by running this program, we can come to a higher mutual understanding of each other and work toward a better future.” 

You paused to digest all his words. He’d said a lot in just one sentence. Then, you narrowed your eyes as you came to realize what these people really were. 

“You’re members of a gang?” you exclaimed. “Seriously? Can you just let me go home, please? I never agreed to this, did I?” 

The black-haired man, supposedly Lucifer, spoke up. 

“No, you can’t go home. As a matter of fact, you did agree to this.” He pulled out a piece of paper and pointed to your signature at the bottom, unmistakably your own handwriting. You stared in shock as he continued speaking. “And anyway, this program is temporary. You’ll be with us only for a year, maybe even a little less, depending on your performance and that of the other members of this program.” 

“Don’t worry, we don’t bite,” Diavolo laughed, but you weren’t exactly comforted by such offhand and carefree words. “At least, not much.” He winked at another man in the room, who laughed in return with a shining smile.

“No promises from me,” the grinning man said. “But the rest of them probably won’t bite. And I promise that at least, I’ll make it worth your while…” 

He shot you a flirtatious smile, and you struggled to keep in your reaction, instead choosing to turn your attention back to your current predicament. 

“So what am I supposed to do in this program, anyway? What’s going to happen to me?” 

Lucifer nodded at your questions. 

“I’m glad you asked. You have tasks to complete while you’re with us. You can think of them as homework assignments, except that some of them will be a little more hands-on than others. As the year bears on, we expect you to complete your tasks in a timely manner.” He smoothed down a flyaway piece of his hair. “I’ll show you your tasks soon enough, but not now. What I will say is that you’ll be staying with my family and me during this period of time.” 

“Your family and yourself?” you echoed hollowly. 

What were a gangster’s house and family going to be like, anyway? Lucifer seemed tame enough, despite the way he looked like he could probably throttle you in his sleep but just didn’t have the motivation to yet. But you couldn’t expect all gangsters to be like him, could you? 

He laughed, seeing the wild look in your eyes. 

“You’re thinking too much. We live in a normal neighborhood. As a matter of fact, our family members—” he stopped, seeming to reconsider his next words. “Well, I won’t deny that they’re all quite eccentric, but most of them should be quite harmless. The brother I’ll be placing you under the care of will be your guardian during this program, and I assure you that while he may place a strain on your wallet if he manages to wheedle you into spending money for him, he will do you no other harm.” He glanced at the other men in the room. “In fact, a few of my family members are here with me right now.”

You swept your gaze back to the other men nervously. All things considered, they seemed...unexpectedly normal. But you supposed they wouldn’t dress like gangsters while they weren’t involved in those kinds of activities. 

“Nice to meet you guys…?” you managed to say weakly. 

Lucifer gave a nod at the others. 

“These brothers are Satan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub. You should be wary of being...charmed by Asmodeus. He’s the kind of person who flirts with anyone he wants to and usually gets his way. Just a look in his eyes and people are captivated.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion, glancing back at Lucifer. 

“Uh… Is that some kind of gangster ability or something?” 

He stared at you, evidently surprised, and then he burst into laughter. 

“If it is, it’s one exclusive to Asmo,” he smiled. “As for Beelzebub, he might eat all your snacks, so you should hide them well. If you have any food on you, he’ll eat it before you even know it. And no, it’s not a gangster ability, it’s just him.” 

You shrank slightly in embarrassment, reproachful. 

“Well, how am I supposed to know…” you muttered. “It’s not like I’ve met a gangster before.” 

“Well, here we are, in the flesh,” Satan said. His smile was perfectly crafted, but you couldn’t sense any particular emotion behind it, which was startling in itself. “You’ll get to know what gangsters are like over this year. You’ll find that we’re not that different from you. We share the same blood, after all.” 

You blinked, taken aback. 

“You’re right,” you sighed. “But we’ll see.” 

“Yes, yes,” Lucifer interrupted, apparently impatient. “That one’s Satan. He doesn’t come with any specifically detrimental or dangerous abilities in everyday life, so don’t worry about him. Although, you should be careful around us all, even if we’re not so different from you. After all,” he gave the others an unfathomable look, “the very nature of our existences directly opposes that of yours.” 

The silence that followed his heavy statement didn’t last long, since Diavolo clapped his hands and sat up straight with a winsome smile. 

“Great, you’ve got all the explanations and all the introductions possible for now. Lucifer, why don’t you call over our guardian and send our new participant home safely?” 

You brightened at the sound of home before remembering that you were now confined to their home. Lucifer’s family’s home. 

“Here, take this.” Lucifer held out a plain black phone to you. “From now on, use this phone to contact us. I’ll show you how to complete your tasks on the phone later, too. But for now, call Mammon, the second oldest brother of my family. His contact is already entered in the phone.” 

You unlocked the phone and quickly tapped on his contact. The phone rang a few times before he picked up. 

“Hello?” 

At the gruff voice coming through the speakers of the phone, you winced inwardly before responding. 

“Hi. I’m the...civilian that’s participating in the program your organization is holding. I was told that you’re to be my guardian from now on.” 

“Ha? Your guardian? Ah, so you’re some dinky civilian. Nah, no way am I gonna take care of you.” 

You looked at Lucifer, who gestured for you to continue talking. 

“Well, Lucifer said you have to,” you sighed. “Do you think I chose for you to take care of me, or something?” 

“I’m not gonna fall for something like you bringing up Lucifer just to get me to do what you want. Go away-” 

“Mammon, get yourself over to the meeting room right now.” Lucifer started counting. “One...two…” 

“Ah, fine, fine! I’m coming, I’m coming! Hang on to your pants, alright? I’m on my way!” 

Mammon’s voice rushed out of the phone quickly, and you held the phone a little farther from you to reduce the volume of his panicked yelling. The end tone of the call beeped, and you relaxed a bit. 

“Not everyone is...as excitable as him, right? I don’t exactly feel...comfortable having him as my guardian,” you said carefully. “I’d be a little more assured if someone like you were my guardian, Lucifer.” 

Except, that was only a half-truth since Lucifer seemed more dangerous than Mammon, even if he seemed less troublesome to interact with.

He sighed and shook his head, suddenly looking much older than his immaculate dark hair would suggest. 

“I know that the circumstances are less than ideal for you, but I, unfortunately, have too much work and other responsibilities I need to handle, so I wouldn’t be able to properly look after you. He may seem somewhat unreliable, but you’ll just have to make do with Mammon for now.” 

Your shoulders slumped. 

“Alright, alright… If you say so. Can I at least trust him to keep me from any bodily harm?” 

Lucifer nodded. 

“Yes. You should go to Mammon if you have any problems. But if you can’t find him in an emergency, any of us brothers will help you. I’ll have to introduce the rest of them to you at a later date since they’re not all here right now.” 

You did a doubletake. 

“Wait, there’s more? How many brothers do you have, anyway?” 

The corner of Lucifer’s lips quirked up in amusement. 

“I have six younger brothers. The order is as follows. Mammon is the second oldest, then Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor. You’ll grow to learn more about them all as time goes on since we’re living in the same house from today onward. It’s inevitable.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Okay… So none of your brothers are going to kill me, right?” 

For a moment, you saw his eyes flash before they dulled back into the usual crimson. 

“...No, they won’t. Although, I will suggest that you be careful. We’ll do our best to guarantee your safety, of course, but try not to...tempt them into doing anything unsavory.” His bottom lip curled in dissatisfaction. “They’re prone to mistakes, being human...but our lives and experience as members of a gang make those mistakes a little more serious than those of civilians.” 

You gulped, realizing the implications. If you didn’t maintain an okay or good relationship with the others, you could easily come under unfavorable circumstances and suffer consequences. 

“...I’ll keep that in mind,” you uttered shakily. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on Tumblr or Twitter @luxexhomines and chat with me~ I like to post WIPs, doodles, and reblog/RT lots of art on Twitter. Tumblr is more Danganronpa-focused.   
> Take care and stay safe!


End file.
